


Beat the Devil's Tattoo

by Gray_Days



Series: DC Prompt Fills [1]
Category: DC Animated Universe, Justice League: Crisis on Two Earths
Genre: Earth-3, Gen, Mirror Universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-24
Updated: 2017-02-24
Packaged: 2018-09-26 15:21:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9908510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gray_Days/pseuds/Gray_Days
Summary: Owlman has missed only one scheduled check-in with his business manager over the course of his career. Owlman does not like missing appointments, as a rule.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written in response to a prompt on tumblr: [Owlman + one missed call.](http://metatextuality.tumblr.com/post/157580460613/prompt-from-twitter-owlman-one-missed-call)
> 
> Leo Black is the mirror-universe counterpart of Lucius Fox.
> 
>  _Warnings:_  
>  Suicide-related content without any actual suicide or suicidal ideation.

_**1998** _

Owlman awoke and immediately hissed a breath through his teeth at the throbbing pain that seemed to suffuse every cell in his body. He felt like he’d been hit by a truck.

A few seconds later, he remembered that he wasn't too far off. It hadn’t been a truck, though. More like collapsing rafters. The rafters had also been on fire.

Last night had gone _very_ poorly.

He managed, with effort, to force his eyes open. It wasn’t his best choice. Even the dim strip lighting along the floor and ceiling made his head hurt. Concussion. He’d apparently made it to one of his safehouses before passing out. Couldn’t be sure which one, but he’d bet on either the 28th Street or Wallace Road bunker.

What time was it?

Owlman wasn’t wearing his helmet and he _definitely_ wasn’t going to try putting it back on when every movement sent a fresh wave of pain through his body, so he fumbled with his utility belt until he managed to pull his handheld out and turn it on. The first thing that caught his eye was the voicemail icon. Six missed calls.

The second thing that caught his eye was that it was 5:24 PM.

Over sixteen hours since he’d entered the warehouse last night. _Fuck._

Shakily, Owlman opened his call history. Five calls from Leo and one from Alfred. Except for one last call from Leo about half an hour ago, Alfred’s was the most recent. He played that message first.

“Mr. Black called approximately twenty minutes ago to inquire as to your whereabouts and condition. When I told him you were unavailable, he hung up, after which I presume he was responsible for contacting the police officers I just had to turn away. Please report back ASAP, sir.”

The speaker clicked off and Owlman pressed his knuckles into his eyes, stifling a groan. He took a few seconds to breathe slowly, steadily, calmly, then moved his hand just enough that he could see the rest of his messages.

2:31 PM: “Thomas, it’s Leo Black. Call me back when you’re available.”

3:30 PM: “Hey, Thomas. It’s Leo again — I’m hoping you just forgot about our appointment, so let me know as soon as you get this message.” A few seconds’ pause as he tried to figure out how to say what he wanted tactfully. “Take care, okay?”

4:22 PM: No content, just a couple seconds of silence between the message tone and Leo hanging up.

Owlman let his hand drop to the cot beside him.

A few minutes later — or, rather, eleven minutes later according to the clock; his time sense must be skewed — he hit Alfred’s speed dial and raised the handheld to his ear.

Alfred answered on the first ring. “Sir.” He was too well trained to let his relief bleed into his tone. Owlman was too well trained not to pick up on it anyway.

“I’m alive,” Owlman rasped. Smoke inhalation. Could be worse. “Need pickup at either safehouse Echo or Foxtrot. Calling Leo now.”

He hung up, took a few deep breaths, and started humming scales until they dissolved into ugly coughing at the point where he switched from chest voice to head voice. Great. That would go over well.

He tried again, this time staying in his upper register, warming up seared-raw vocal cords until he could manage at least a passably consistent tone. That would have to be good enough; it had already been another ten minutes. He dialed Leo and stared vaguely at the ceiling as he listened to the phone ring.

A click as Leo picked up. “Hello?”

“Hi, Leo.” This number blocked caller ID, for obvious reasons, so he clarified, “It’s Thomas. Sorry I missed our call.”

“Thomas!” Leo was much less practiced than Alfred at keeping his emotions out of his voice. “How are you?”

That was code for _are you okay, did you or are you about to attempt suicide, are you in danger right now, dear god why the hell do you sound like that._ “Hungover,” Owlman said sheepishly. Fortunately for his current ability to dissemble, Thomas’s sheepish tone was practically indistinguishable from any of his others. “Last night was, um.” The pause stretched on too long as he tried to force his brain into some semblance of functional cognition. “An adventure.”

He could hear Leo relax slightly. That was the main downside of giving his alter ego a watertight reason to avoid appearing in public: he didn’t have to pretend to be something he wasn’t, but the few people who cared about his well-being wouldn’t trust any assurances he made that he was fine. Hence the bimonthly calls for Leo to gently probe his mental state. “You sure you’re okay?” Leo asked.

“Yes. Sorry for making you worry.” Owlman muted the mic momentarily so he could swallow another cough, then unmuted and said, “I just…lost track of time. You know how it is.”

Leo spent Friday nights apart from his wife so he could drink too much and muse on the cost/benefit balance of holy matrimony, and therefore would never admit to knowing the exact specifics of how it was. “Sure, sure,” he said too quickly. “Just leave your phone on next time, alright? You had me waiting for a ransom call or something.”

“Yeah. Sorry. I’ll remember next time. Look, I’ve got a splitting headache and I really need to get cleaned up, so I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay? Same time.”

“Same time,” Leo agreed. Not entirely on board, but unwilling to push his mentally unstable young employer into opening up more while he was probably already longing for death. “Take care, Thomas.”

“You too. Bye.” Owlman hung up, resisted the urge to throw his handheld at the wall, and closed his eyes and took a deep breath instead. Too much going wrong in one day. Too much that he had to fix, too many fronts he’d have to repair his reputation on if he didn’t want matters to slip even further out of his control, all while all medical wisdom stated that he should be resting and recovering instead. Not that any of this _should_ have happened in the first place.

Owlman realised he’d dozed off again when Alfred said, “Owlman, sir,” in a way that implied that he was repeating himself at increased volume. Owlman’s hand darted to his belt before the lightning jolt of pain reminded him where he was.

“Alfred,” he affirmed through gritted teeth.

“Welcome back to the land of the living,” Alfred said drily as he stepped into view. He was holding a canteen, which he uncapped and passed to Owlman once he held his hand out for it. He supported the canteen as Owlman drank to keep him from spilling or dropping it. Once Owlman had finished, Alfred recapped the canteen and set it down nearby. “Let’s get you out of that armour and see what can be done for you, shall we?”

“Alfred,” Owlman protested.

“I’m not exacerbating any injuries you might have by transporting you before I know their extent,” Alfred snapped. “Are you going to make me fight you on this, or may I proceed?”

Owlman blinked petulantly at Alfred, then pointedly turned his gaze back to the ceiling.

“ _Thank_ you,” Alfred muttered, crouching beside him to start pulling his gauntlets off. “Waynes and their damned stubbornness.”

Owlman didn’t have the energy to admonish him.

**Author's Note:**

>  **Soundtrack:**  
>  • [Beat the Devil's Tattoo](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jqMf8d60wzo) by Black Rebel Motorcycle Club  
> • I'm not saying [No Church in the Wild](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FJt7gNi3Nr4) by Kanye West and Jay Z for the anti-establishment blasphemy and the "sunglasses and advil" verse but I am in fact saying exactly that.
> 
> By 1998, two or three years into Owlman's career, pre-clamshell cell phones are starting to become prevalent, but his handheld is more along the lines of [the Batwave PDA/communicator](http://www.dcauresource.com/thebatmanprofiles/objects/b/batwave.php) in The Batman. (This chronology is based on the premise that Crisis on Two Earths happens around 2010, mainly because that's easier for me to wrangle as a Dread Millennial than the official DCAU timeline. Given the inconsistently advanced sci-fi technology of the DC verse overall, this isn't particularly important except in regard to temporal reference points from story to story.)


End file.
